


Morning Coffee

by orphan_account



Category: Hemlock Grove
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Kind of but definintely not really, M/M, Romancek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 05:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4209303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter and Roman are dealing with Nadia and Miranda's loses in their usual shitty way; refusing to confront their problems and work through them, choosing instead to feel nothing but anger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> I drew a little comic about Roman making fun of Peter fucking up using his coffee maker, and it was really fluffy and cute. I tried to write that fic. But it felt untrue to the show, so now I have this.

Peter lost his temper a lot lately, ever since Nadia and Miranda disappeared into the night sky in the claws of that thing. He’d also been staying with Roman a lot. So much so that most of his clothes are here, and when Destiny wants to find him she calls the landline in the house first. Roman wasn’t much different, but being a public figure he was better at keeping it under wraps—at least until he could be alone or with Peter. 

They were an ugly pair, two people who were barely adults shaking under the weight of every bad things they’d seen and done. And while Roman seemed to be coming to term with his stasis as an upir, Peter still found himself struggling with what he had become in his rush to save Nadia. Sometimes Peter felt like he was only a few strands of string away from snapping, losing control, and becoming a vargulf once more. His nightmares were haunted by the long, lone howls of a giant twisted wolf silhouetted by a crescent moon. Destiny had lots to say about those dreams, and how he needed to find a way to be at peace with what had happened to him. Peter didn’t know how to find peace, didn’t even know if there was any peace for him to find. He lived in constant fear of becoming a monster again. The only thing he thought really stopped him was the worry that Roman wouldn’t be able to save him a second time. He left him alone once, and somewhere along the line he’s promised that he would never do that to Roman again. 

Once of the ways the Peter kept his head about him was by following patterns. With a planned day, a preset way things should be done, Peter was better able to predict how he’d feel and what he needed to do to keep those feeling good. This being said, Peter had a certain pattern he followed in the mornings. Shower, dress, trim his facial scruff, and then go into the kitchen to eat and drink his morning coffee. This includes Roman getting up at the same time as him, or earlier than him, to avoid Peter losing his temper and breaking something and make the goddamn coffee. 

“Goddamnit!” Peter hissed under his breath. Roman had not woken up earlier than him today, or at all so far as Peter knew. So Peter’s morning routine was disrupted when he came into the kitchen and saw no coffee in the machine, device, whatever Roman insisted that damned thing was. And like hell was he going without coffee, or worse, going out to get it. Peter gave a frustrated growl as his mug continued to refuse to cooperate with him, slamming it against the counter. It shattered and left nothing but the mug handle in his fist. 

“What are you doing?” Roman asked, stopping at the top of the stairs.

“I’m making fucking coffee, the fuck does it look like I’m fucking doing, where the fuck were you this morning?” It came out in one long breath, Peter not even looking at the upir. Roman scoffed at him.

“I had a late night, I slept in for once. Does the puppy not understand technology? Do you bark at the vacuum cleaner, too?” Roman teased, stomping his way down the stairs and turning into the kitchen area, “What did you even break? Not my coffee machine I hope.”

“No I didn’t fucking break your goddamn piece of shit coffee maker you fucking masochist. Why do you own this thing, it doesn’t even make actual coffee it makes one fucking cup of it.” Peter was picking pieces of ceramic mug out of his hand and off of his clothes. Roman finally reached Peter, leaning over him to look at the damage.

“Shee-it,” He reached around Peter, and pulled a large sliver from Peter’s palm. His hand flicked the shard away and slid down to wrap around Peter’s wrist, bringing the cut on the hand to his mouth. Peter tried to jerk his hand away, but Roman was stronger than him.

“What are you doing, you creep? Don’t you dare drink my fucking blood, that’s disgusting!” Roman gave him a shit eating grin before pressing his mouth the injury. Peter muttered under his breath, cursing out Roman’s gross eating habits. He shook his head, tickling Roman’s neck with his hair. 

After a few moments Roman let go of Peter’s hand, expecting him to pull it away. However, Peter made no attempt to move his hand away from the upir, just glaring at the counter and blushing.

“Oh my god,” Roman gave the shit eating grin again, “No way!”

“What?” Peter asked, already sounding defensive.

“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”

“No, you’re delusional.”

“Debatable. What isn’t debatable is that you fucking enjoyed me drinking your blood!”

“No.” Peter placed his hand against the counter and began fiddling with the mug handle, “I just zoned out. I haven’t had any coffee yet. I’m out of it.”

“Sure, Peter. Want me to make you coffee?”

“I can make it myself!”

“As evidenced by the broken mug.”

“Fuck you.”

“Later. Now move so I can make you coffee.”

“I could do it. But, man, your coffee maker fucking sucks.” Roman rolled his eyes.

“You just suck at using it.” Roman pushed Peter to the side, pressing buttons and setting in a flavour packet in the machine, grabbing a new mug before he pressed the on button.  
The two stood in silence as it brewed, droplets plinking into the mostly empty mug.

“So,” Peter paused, looking up at Roman, “You’re in a good mood today. Find anything about Nadia and Miranda?” Roman tensed, all the calm he’d had leaving him.

“No. Funny how a flying fucking reptile can just disappear like that. You’d think some radar or satellite or plane would have seen them.” Roman sighed, tussling his hair and throwing his bangs out of his face, “You find out what that giant flying reptile was?”

“Nothing. Destiny and I have called in nearly every favour we had and we have nothing.”

“Okay… Okay, we’ll keep looking.”

“You say that like we have a choice. What else can we do?” Roman gave no answer, and Peter offered no more questions. 

“Shee-it.” Peter murmured after several minutes of silence.

“Shee-it.” Roman agreed. The coffee maker dinged.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm considering making a domestic!rumancek AU. Thoughts?


End file.
